


What Else?

by poetsandzombies



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Massage, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:07:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1951005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetsandzombies/pseuds/poetsandzombies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony wants to take care of Steve for once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Else?

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be for stac, but it took a long time for me to finish. It got really cheesy and sappy, my apologies.

Steve wished he had the words to explain it.

Tony was brilliant. Not just in the “certified genius” sense, but also in the way that he could charm a crowd of outraged citizens in less than ten words. He could talk for hours about something as complex as Einstein's theory of relativity and somehow you would never get tired of listening. And despite everyone's doubts, when it counted, Tony  _always_  did what he felt in his heart was right.

-

His room was lit up like a night sky, all the shelves and dressers lined with candles, their tiny flames flickering softly in the dark.

And then there was Tony, sitting back on his heels, knees pressing into the soft cushion of blankets. He wore nothing but boxers and the transparent, silk button down that hung loosely over his shoulders. The flushed, blue glow of his arc reactor shone through, illuminating his chest; a moon among the stars.

Steve leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms, chewing on his bottom lip.

He should have expected this, he knew. Lately, every battle seemed to be a wake up call to Tony about how dangerous their jobs were, so why would this be any different?

It was just that this time it had been  _Steve_  who had almost died.

Tony motioned for him to come over and Steve snapped out of his own mind, eagerly closing the distance between them and standing by the edge of the bed, reaching out to wrap his hands around his waist and pull him against his body. Tony raked calloused fingers through Steve's hair with a hint of a smile as he searched his face.

“When do  _I_  get to take care of  _you_?” Steve asked quietly. He could feel Tony's heart beating against his chest and closed his eyes, focusing on nothing else.

“You do every day,” Tony answered, voice strangled. His words weren't light. They were slow, every one stressed like he meant them with every ounce of his being. “If I could give you even half of the things that you've given me-”

Steve shushed him, fingers curling into his sides as he leaned in, brushing their noses together before kissing him delicately. Tony's faint smile against his lips made kissing impossible because Steve couldn't help but smile back. Eventually they gave up trying and Tony moved down to mouth at Steve's throat while working on his clothes.

It was good. All of it was  _amazing_. Steve had thought that the “we just barely made it out alive” sex with Tony would be rough and fast. It  _was_  the first time. But every time after that had been slow, sweet even, and somehow just as desperate. It was absolutely addicting.

“Steve?”

“What?” He hadn't been listening. He'd been too distracted by the hand slipping just beneath his boxers to hear anything. Tony leaned up into Steve's ear and whispered,

“I said, take these off.” He tugged on the elastic band and Steve obeyed, stepping away momentarily to shed the rest of his clothes off. When he was done, he saw that Tony had slid off the bed. His brows furrowed in confusion, and Tony rested a hand on his hip, leaning up to kiss him.

“Go ahead and lay down. I'll be right back.” He said. Steve looked from Tony to the mess of blankets and pillows on the bed.

“Back or stomach?” He asked. Tony grinned.

“Stomach.” He said, and Steve's eyes crossed momentarily because  _oh_. It was something he'd never done before, but was wanting and waiting to try. Tony winked before slipping away and heading toward the bathroom.

Steve shoved a few pillows beneath his hips so he could lay down comfortably with an erection. He rested his cheek over his crossed arms and listened to the soft pad of Tony's footsteps as he returned to his room.

Tony touched him lightly, just to let him know he was there, and after some shifting he was straddling the back of Steve's thighs.

“You're bruised, babe.” Tony said, a hint of worry in his tone. He brushed his fingers lightly over the edge of his back where Steve knew black and blue blotches trailed all the way to his side.

“It comes with the job.” Steve remarked fondly, straining to look over his shoulder to see what Tony was doing.

He was pouring a bottle of what looked more like oil than lube. Steve pouted, about to ask what he was doing, until Tony reached out and started rubbing the oils into Steve's lower back. His hands were warm and welcoming and Steve couldn't help but audibly sigh because he was sore and tense and  _not_  about to complain about a massage before sex.

Steve relaxed into every gentle touch, Tony's hands running up his back, over his shoulders, and back down, palms pressing into soft skin, cautiously avoiding the bruised area. Tony leaned down to press light kisses down his neck, along his shoulders. Steve was candle wax, melting beneath the flame of Tony.

He reached out to grab his hand when it went to wrap around his chest, pulling him further up his body. He pressed his mouth against the hand he was holding, smiled, turned his head as much as he could to pull Tony into a kiss.

And then Tony was sliding back down, sitting up. His fingers trailed down past his back, over his ass, rubbing in circles with his thumbs. Steve flinched, momentarily surprised, before easing into it. But just as quickly, Tony's hands were gone, and Steve was about to complain until he heard the sound of a bottle cap opening and understood. When they returned, his fingers were slick with lube and Tony drug his palms into Steve's ass, spreading it and pressing a finger in slowly.

Steve gasped at the different, strange feeling, clenching his fists tightly. Tony rubbed his free hand over Steve soothingly, calming him.

“You okay?” He asked carefully.

“Yeah,” Steve breathed. It  _was_  strange, but not unpleasant. After a minute, Tony added another finger, the pressure making Steve harden more against the cushions beneath him, his eyes crossing dizzily.

“So earlier today, before we were called in,” Tony started suddenly. Steve let out a strangled laugh.

“Are you seriously trying to talk to me right now?” He managed between shallow breaths, grinding into the bed to relieve some of the throbbing in his dick.

“I'm trying to apologize,” Tony said.

“Well this is a- oh- a really bad time-god, Tony,” Steve groaned. Tony pulled his hands away abruptly and moved off of Steve, sitting back on his knees next to him. Steve rolled onto his side reluctantly, propping himself up on his elbow to look up at the other man.

“Tony,” He said hoarsely, but he couldn't finish the sentence, it was all gibberish as he tried to get his head back in place. Tony wasn't looking at him.

“I just needed to say it because the way that I walked out... Well, I thought that I had lost you for good. And if the things I said ended up being the  _last_ things I said to you, I don't know how I could live with myself.”

“Tony, you're horrible.” Steve complained.

“I know I am, I don't-”

“No,” Steve took Tony's hand and pulled him down over himself. “I mean, you're timing is horrible.” He reached up to thread his fingers through Tony's hair. The last thing Steve wanted was for him to feel guilty about something in their relationship.

“If something happens,”

“Don't say it,” Tony whispered.

“ _If something happens_ ,” Steve repeated firmly, “and I die, I'm not going to waste my time thinking about 'what Tony's last words to me' were, not when I know that that's not even a fraction of what we have. No matter what the circumstances are, I'll still die knowing that you love me. You do love me, right?” Tony rolled his eyes.

“Of course I do.” he said.

“Just checking,” Steve smirked. His face softened as he brushed circles over Tony's cheek with his thumb. "You know I love you too, right?" 

Tony smiled warmly.

"Yeah," He said, leaning in to press his lips against Steve's. Steve wrapped an arm around his lower back, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. Tony responded eagerly, pressing the whole of his body against Steve's, sliding a hand down his side, nipping at his lower lip before moving down to his jaw. Steve spread his legs to fit Tony's waist between his thighs, lifting his hips for friction. Tony leaned back to look at Steve, eyelids drooping in a daze. 

"Did you still want to...?" He asked.

"Yeah," Steve adjusted his position beneath Tony. "Yeah, just-just...yeah." he mumbled incoherently once they'd situated themselves so that Tony could push into him.

Steve didn't care what anyone said, Tony was a very considerate man when it came to the people he cared about, and sex was no exception. He didn't move an inch once inside him until Steve let out the breath he'd been holding unintentionally. 

It was a strange feeling, definitely. But nice. Steve searched blindly among the bed sheets for Tony's hand and laced his fingers through his in a silent attempt to tell him how much it meant to Steve that he could be this close to someone he loved so much.

But any profound thoughts soon melted into a stream of "Oh god"s and "Tony"s as Tony began to  _move_ , rocking his hips into Steve slowly. Tony laughed quietly at his surprise, moving down to suck on his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. Steve gasped, arching into him at the sudden, unbelievable pleasure pooling in his gut.

"D-don't stop..." he moaned, toes curling into the bed sheets. 

"Not a chance," Tony managed between small gasps and kisses into the crook of Steve's neck. His hands slid down his sides to grasp his hips, thrusting into Steve harder, faster.

Steve moaned loudly, touching every inch of Tony he could reach, his whole body trembling until he was coming, with warmth in his gut and Tony's name on his lips. 

Tony wasn't far behind him, planting a sloppy kiss on Steve before pulling out and moving off of him. Delirious and blissful, Steve pulled Tony in close, holding him against his chest. There were a few moments of silence as they both took time to catch their breaths. 

 

"Can I stay here tonight?" Tony asked eventually.

"You know you won't be able to sneak out tomorrow without someone seeing you," Steve said.

"I know." Steve perked up, loosening his arms to give Tony room to turn around and face him.

"And you're ready for that?" He asked cautiously, studying Tony's face. There was nothing calculating or confused in his expression. Rather, it was calm, sure, and simple. 

"Yeah," Tony said after a moment, reaching out to brush Steve's hair back out of his face. "Yeah, I am." 

-

What else? Steve was in love with him.

He couldn't pretend that this was something on his mind all hours of the day, just like he couldn't pretend he always watched the sun set when in reality there simply was not enough time. Steve loved him the way that the sky bent every evening to shape the earth. It was as warm and welcoming as the colors that broke out beyond the clouds, and it deserved every second of his attention. But there was  _work_  and there were  _priorities_ he selflessly had to put before it.

But hell, did Steve love Tony.


End file.
